For he had watched the ways o' men, E'en from his early youth, And thought the world might a' be richt, Society is dreeing, Spring from our want o' faith in truth, His heart was in ilka thing he did, That e'en Jock Jaup the wicked loon, The thundercloud upon his brow, And lightning o' his e'e, And when the rich would wrong the poor, John always stept between, And fought them wi' his rackle tongue, And wi' his awfu' e'en. And how the tall and stately knight, Of lineage long and high, Would feel he was no lordly soul, If Elder John was by; And when he tampered with our rights, O! twas a sight to see, How nervously the Knight did quake, Beneath the elder's e'e; Tho' backit by the minister, And mony a cringing laird, John foucht them a' tho he was but For titled, tall impertinence, The favours o' the rich and great, He never strove to win, And he would doff his bonnet blue, But to the God aboon, Yet honoured worth whenever found, As few poor mortals can, For, paying homage still he kept, The dignity of man. And yet his heart was formed for peace, Wi' mony a gushing spring But with his fathers long ago, He's laid him down to sleep, Nor want, nor woe, nor wicked men, Of an old pious race; And would that Scotland now-a-days, Had such to fill your place; And may thy grave be ever green, Thy memory ever dear, And be thine honest epitaph A hero slumbers here. LOVELY ALICE. Awake, lovely Alice, The dawn's on the hill, And the green woods are ringing, The voice of lone Locher, Comes mellow and sweet, But thou art the glory Far deeper the joy, love, Were I but the lord of Thine innocent heart; And 'neath fortune's malice |